Love mends even the broken parts
Loren stood by the water’s edge, underneath the arbor. Besides him, he’d set up an altar of sorts, merely a simple stone covered in a white cloth, candles burning on the corners, with a variety of objects atop it: a pink and blue ribbon, an empty silver cup, some unlit incense, a bowl with salt, and a receptacle of oil. A broom with more pink and blue ribbons wrapped around its handle leaned against it, and pink and blue flowers adorned its bristles.
For his part, the Launceleyn was dressed in a plain white robe. A rope of blue and pink flowers rested around his neck, and a rope belt was tied around his waist. Underneath the robe, though none could see it, he was barefoot. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he had a neutral expression held carefully on his face. He waited patiently for everyone to arrive.
For his part, the Launceleyn was dressed in a plain white robe. A rope of blue and pink flowers rested around his neck, and a rope belt was tied around his waist. Underneath the robe, though none could see it, he was barefoot. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he had a neutral expression held carefully on his face. He waited patiently for everyone to arrive.
loren
